The Tale of an Assassin
by dahliaphoenix
Summary: How much can a person take before everything they cherish comes crashing down?


Manhattan, New York

September 18th, 1974

_It was a chilly, autumn evening..._

_The streets were quiet at this time of night, except for the distant sounds of cars zooming in the distance. Their engines roared as the sound reverberated throughout the city. Thousands of bright lights shined in that panoramic view above the city's skyscrapers and tall buildings that stood out, bringing about the energizing, upbeat atmosphere of this metropolitan area._

_It was a beautiful night in the city of Manhattan. Usually, New York is known to be "The City That Never Sleeps", with its million of inhabitants staying up after hours, either going partying out at a bar or strip club or for that matter; for those early birds who wake up in the middle of the night to get ready for the upcoming day at their every day jobs. It was a normal, day-to-day routine for every New Yorker who lived in this part of the borough, making it no different for those who lived in the Great Apple. _

_The wind blew gently as the trees rustled, street lamps gleaming the sidewalks; orange lights illuminating the concrete sidewalks for anyone who wandered around at this hour._

_On this particular night, though, as passersby strolled down the street minding their own business, self-absorbed in their own conversations about life in their loud, brash New York accents; they paid no heed to a desperate cry that echoed down the street. _

_"POMOGITE MNE!"_

_A young boy helplessly limped down the street. Blood dripped down from his left side, leaving a splattered, red trail as he went onward. This boy didn't have a clue as to where he was or what direction to take. Taking one step at a time, he gently raised his gaze to see if he had had any luck of getting anyone in this forsaken suburb to notice a beaten, bloodied up Russian boy struggling to get to the next block. As the wind blew again, the cold air hit him like a brick and he shuddered tightening his hold on both his upper, left shoulder and above the right side of his waist. He wasn't wearing much, except for a worn-out black t-shirt that was caked in crimson, fresh blood and his coffee-colored leather brown jacket that barely kept him warm since it was torn up. It was the only article of clothing he had scraped up when he was digging through the garbage dumpsters and had taken quite the liking to it. _

_Letting out a soft whimper at the immense pain, the boy hissed, feeling his bruises sting at the mere sensation of the breeze making contact with the tender, broken skin. It was difficult to breathe as he gasped for air, lungs burning while he attempted to continue strolling down this pathway, hoping for a miracle of sorts. _

_Sweat dripped down the sides of his face. Narrow, brown eyes scoped the area, but to no avail. He clutched his upper, left shoulder, attempting to stop the bleeding, but it was turning out to be too difficult, especially with the amount of blood he had already lost along the way. His mind was racing, recollecting his thoughts as to what had went down earlier that night at the pier. It all had happened so fast..._

_Biting down on his lip to keep himself from crying, he closed his eyes for a moment and started breathing calmly, trying to keep his mind at ease before he gave the situation too much thought. Mustering all the energy he still had, he shouted at the top of his lungs again, hoping that anyone would hear him this time._

_"Kto-nibud', pomogite mne! Lyuboy ! Pozhaluysta!" _

_This caused him to start retching blood on the sidewalk, tasting the metallic substance in his mouth. It was distasteful and it hurt every time he tried to speak._

_Closing his eyes to suppress the agonizing pain, he clutched down even harder on the wound; feeling more blood ooze down his shirt. Barely opening his eyes to take a quick glance, he moved his hand away from the wound and an unsettling, sick feeling arose; noticing his entire palm was completely caked in blood. Dark, crimson bubbles glistened as the lines of sanguine dripped on both ends. The beaten up boy started feeling despair take hold of his mind, trying his best effort to keep himself conscious. He could feel his heartbeat start slowing down with each step he took, his breathing getting shallower by the second._

_Everything that was in clear sight before him started becoming a blur of mixed colors, lights, images...his head swaying lazily as he turned to look to each side; observing at the building's windows; lights turned on with the slight dim shadows of individuals and families preparing to gather up to either have a movie night or for those who wanted to stay home and have their own private time with no interruptions. _

_Before he was even aware as to where he was, the young child extended his hand out to reach for anything flat; something that could keep him standing on his two feet to avoid falling flat on his face. Fortunately enough, the feel of a cold, brick wall made contact with his hand. _

_It was creeping in inch by inch, he could feel it to his very core... knowing his chances were growing slim._

_He felt mentally and physically exhausted._

_Slowly, the youngster backed himself up against the wall and without much effort, let himself slide down until he reached the ground. His eyes started feeling heavy, and while he attempted again to open them to see what was around him; the first thing that came into mind was that he had wandered into a silent alleyway. The dim lights of the street lamps still reflected amongst the entrance in which he had come in through. As he continued looking around, from what he could make out from his surroundings, the buildings that were enclosed in this path were old, rundown apartments. He could clearly see the yellow, glowing lights from the windows of each resident that lived in that passageway. He chuckled bitterly as his head dropped down again. _

_People lived here. People lived here and yet, no one was coming out of their way to help him._

_"Vy Amerikanskiye trakhayet! Poshel na khuy! "_

_It was worth a shot as he cringed in pain once more._

_They were probably too scared to get involved in any altercation. He couldn't blame these Americans. Especially taking into account as to the type of people he had encountered earlier. Hell, thinking back, he would've ended up like the rest of them if it weren't for his sharp sense to notice what was taking down after they had arrived. Unfortunately, one of the henchmen had seen him trying to flee the scene and immediately slid out his knife from his sheath as he started pursuing him..._

_What a night it had been. Stabbed. Beaten. Scared. Those were the only three words that could describe his situation. What a combination for the amount of unrelenting pain that wouldn't ease down. Now, he sat there, incapable of moving any further._

_It astounded him, even at his age, to know how cruel the world could be. How people continue their daily lives pretending that everything's fine, turning the blind-eye as someone pleaded for their lives. How pathetic._

_As he sat there, clenching his body to prevent the further bleeding, oppressive, dark thoughts clouded his mind. _

_What exactly did he do to deserve all this? Being born? _

_For the past nine years, he had been miserable. Facing obstacles at such a young age, witnessing horrible things as he wandered from place to place. Since the passing of his mother four years ago, he had been on his own. Alone in the world._

_"Vozmozhno." He whispered to himself looking up at the night sky. He could rarely see anything at this point and the pain on his upper shoulder had gone numb._

_"Mozhet byt' ... yeye luchshe etot put'."_

_Tears formed as he closed his eyes. Finally,after all these years, perhaps he would finally be able to see her again. The pain, the abuse...it would all end._

_It would finally be over._

_Or not quite as he expected._

_"Are you okay?", a soft, squeaky voice asked out of nowhere._

_This startled the boy as he jerked himself awake, panting heavily as his brown eyes bugged out. _

_"Oh my! I didn't mean to startle you. Are you hurt?"_

_He couldn't understand anything this person was asking him. But being as shrewd as he was, he quickly figured out the dialect to be English. Didn't take much to guess, especially since he was five thousand miles away from home. Coming to the United States hadn't been a cozy trip. It had probably been the worst six months of his life as he was held captive. But to be in this new country, he felt foreign to everything. The culture, the language, the lavish lifestyle these people had...completely different from his native home._

_Trying to maintain his composure in front of this stranger, he started to straighten himself up against the wall, but the ungodly pain shot through his body like wildfire and he bit down on his lip to prevent himself from cussing out in Russian._

_"Jesus, here! Let me help you." _

_For a moment, all his mind could think about was the throbbing pain coursing through his small frame. His eyes winced every time he thought of bringing his hand down from the wound, but blood kept oozing down his worn-out shirt making him feel powerless as to what to do._

_"Here, let me look." The same voice demanded as he could hear them get closer._

_Turning to glance as to who this stranger was, the boy was a bit taken aback to see a young girl, probably three years younger than he was, staring right back at him with wide, brown eyes full of concern._

_From what he observed, the girl was wearing a large, black pea coat over her tiny frame crouched down on her knees, pink-black polka dot pijama pants showing underneath the coat. Made sense since it was freezing outside. Her hair was short and messy, dark brown waves falling on both sides of her face. She had a cute, round face which brought out her features. Small, pursed lips, those big, brown eyes that twinkled with the dim reflection of the street lamps bringing about a lighter shade of her irises, and her pale skin which had a soft glow that radiated through the dark. He knew he probably looked like an idiot gawking at her, but looking away wasn't an option. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, noticing the way he was staring at her, but after not putting too much thought into it from the actions he noticed; she leaned in closer to get a better view as to where all the blood was coming from. The girl yelped, eventually noticing the entire left side of his shirt soaked in fresh blood. Quickly looking up to catch his gaze again, the brown, haired girl started observing who this kid was. _

_A lot older than her, that was for sure. This boy had a cool demeanor from what she could sense, facial features being rough and chiseled. His right cheek was bruised, a nasty purple bruise forming as the red outline of the broken skin showed. The boy's narrow eyes glistened, bringing about a hazel color that brought out his own brown pupils. His light, brown hair was damp from all the sweat that had formed from the running, and barely trying to keep himself standing seeing the bloodied mess he was. His leather jacket was a bit big on him, with the torn fabric showing on some ends and his old, pair of blue jeans were soaked with spots of brown, dried out blood. _

_At this point though, the Russian lad didn't seem to mind anymore. As he kept looking back at her, he hadn't even realized that the hand that was covering the wound had dropped to his side. The pain was suddenly gone..._

_All his focus came down to this one girl. Who was she? _

_He didn't know why he was feeling the way he did, probably because he saw this as an opportunity to seek help or as to how drained he felt. It was strange to piece together all of what had went down on this evening, but as candid as he was when it came down to a conversation, he couldn't utter a single word, knowing logically that this girl wouldn't understand him. They were at a standstill, not knowing what to make of the other especially since they didn't speak the same language. But he wanted to say something, anything that could give this girl a hint that he had no intention to hurt her..._

_They stared at one another without them emitting a word. It felt as if time itself had stopped for this particular moment. It stayed like that for a while, the ongoing sounds of cars zooming in the city, the breeze gently whispering into the night..._

_Little did they both know, destiny had its own plans. Things were about to take their course..._

_For every individual, there is a story to share. And like any other individual, they were no different._

_This was only the beginning._

* * *

Hello there! Its been a while, hasn't it? Well, fortunately enough, I have found the time to come back on here to start on my new work. Sadly enough, I fell through with a few of my works because after a while, I wasn't feeling content as to where the plot was going in any of 'em. A lot has happened in the past year, so that can be a contribution along with writer's block. My god...it is a BITCH. But now I'm focused on starting on this book. The genre is romance, yes, but I do intend on adding a darker edge to the plot since I feel like it would be realistic, life-like. For my characters, I have chosen a few actors to portray 'em, but I am working on fresh, new faces to include in this story. If anyone has any suggestions, feel free to message me anytime. I'm open to criticism.

I was finally able to go back and look at the prologue again to see if I needed to make any changes. I'm pretty content now seeing as I added more detail to this chapter so I hope it to be readable for you guys. I was struggling a bit as to how to write this out, but this is my best attempt for the meantime. A bit of the dialogue is in Russian, so I'll have to put down the translation for it:

"POMOGITE MNE!" - "HELP ME!"

"Kto-nibud', pomogite mne! Lyuboy ! Pozhaluysta!" - "Someone help me! Anyone! Please!"

"You American fucks! Fuck you!" - "Vy Amerikanskiye trakhayet ! Poshel na khuy!"

"Vozmozhno." - "Perhaps."

"Mozhet byt' ... yeye luchshe etot put'." -" Maybe...its better this way."

For anyone who has any suggestions after reading this, please message me and I will try to contact you as soon as I can. I have a long way to go, but it feels good to start off somewhere. Hope y'all like it!

Original file was uploaded on writerscafe: writing/Toxicinity/1340862/

If you're a huge Robert Downey Jr./Cristin Milioti fan, this is for y'all!


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